


Reconciliation: Inheritor of Plegia

by sapphireangel



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Chrobin - Freeform, F/M, Grima - Freeform, Plegia, Post-Grima, Rebuilding Plegia, Speculation, so obviously it's not canon, two characters without names are given names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphireangel/pseuds/sapphireangel
Summary: Robin has finally settled in Ylisse after waking up from her two-year slumber.  Now with child, she’s ready to continue her station as Queen of Ylisse alongside her husband, Chrom.  However, a messenger from Plegia claims that the regent requests an audience with her, as she is the only surviving kin to their late king, Validar.  Robin wants nothing more than for Ylisse to have a peaceful relationship with Plegia, and decides to make the trip to the capital in order to meet the regent and appoint them as Plegia’s new leader.  During this journey, Robin learns more about her past.





	1. Visitor

“Mooommyyy” Lucina whined with her usual drawl, “Mommy wake uuuup!”

 

Two small hands gently patted Robin’s cheeks, her eyes fluttering open to see her four-year-old’s bright, blue eyes staring her down with the look that said, ‘you need to wake up. I want to play’.

 

“O-okay, yes, yes I’m awake, Luci.” She muttered while pushing the blankets away from her, “Mommy had a late night, sweetie.  She’s a little tired.”

 

“Daddy…daddy said not to bug you.” Lucina explained, as if she were reciting the exact words Chrom told her, “And…and that, that, that I should leave you alone! Yeah.”  But the child beamed at her now-awake mother, proud that she remembered her father’s words and was able to recite them to Robin with ease.  How could she stay mad when her world had such a sweet smile?

 

“Did he, now?” Robin said with a yawn, “But did Luci listen to daddy?”

 

A pause.  The little girl looked down at her shoes for a moment, “N-No.”

 

“Listen to daddy next time, Luci.” Robin ran her hand along the child’s cranium to soften the scold—she was learning, and Robin couldn’t fault her for that. Besides, she was requested the other day to grant an audience with ‘a visitor from our neighbor, specifically asking for you, Lady Robin’ as Frederick explained at dinner.  It was odd that someone would seek her audience specifically, as opposed to her husband’s.  While she carried enough wisdom to advise and to make sound decisions, Robin continued to place most of the work upon her husband’s shoulders while she tended to their family.  However, that did not keep her from keeping her mind sharp, as she always continued her studies between play-time with Lucina and tea with the nobles.  With that in mind, Robin shifted in bed until her toes touched the cold wood floor—Lucina was already dressed in her warmer clothes, a long-sleeved blue dress to keep the child warm, yet still appropriate for play. 

 

“I’m hungry…” she whined, “Daddy, daddy…said to wait for you for breakfast.”

 

Robin slowly rolled her eyes—when Chrom skipped a meal, it usually meant one of two things.  Either he was preoccupied with something dire, like war-planning or something similar to that, or he was worried about something….something usually miniscule, and relating to her.  She wasn’t surprised, given his wife just came back from a two year slumber and now carried his second child.  What was a happy little miracle and the beginning to the renewal of their family turned into Chrom’s endless hours of worry for his wife’s safety.  He didn’t want to lose her again, as bearing children was still that of a risky endeavor.  But Robin had faith, and she wanted to bring Morgan into their world more than anything. 

 

… But, of course, if there was anyone more worried and overbearing than Chrom, it was Frederick himself, who somehow heard the small creak of the bed from what seemed like yards away, and immediately came knocking on her chamber door,

 

“Good Morning, Lady Robin,” he said, “need you any assistance this morn?”

 

“…Frederick I’m only four months in, I’m not a balloon yet.” She groaned,

 

“I am well aware, milady.  But milord-”

 

“You can tell _my lord_ that he need not worry so much about me, and it would be nice to see him upon waking up in the morning.” Her eyes quickly fell to Lucina, to which she added, “Though I appreciate the messenger he inadvertently sent.”  Though she didn’t understand exactly what her mother meant, Lucina still grinned as if she did something worthy of praise. 

 

After a moment of silence, she heard Frederick’s exasperated sigh,

 

“As you wish.  He will be here shorty.”

 

 

As usual, Frederick told no lie as Chrom burst through the door after what felt like only a minute passed.  Lucina, bored with waiting for her mother to get dressed, instantly ran up to her father with arms wide open. 

 

“Luci,” Chrom said as he lifted her up, “I thought I said not to bug mommy while she sleeps…”

 

“Yes!” Lucina yelped.  He cocked his brow in confusion, but his attention soon went to his wife as she walked out of their closet, dressed for warmth, but also to hide the obvious weight she had put on. 

 

“Ah-”

 

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” she asked, “What did I say, Chrom?”

 

“Please understand my position, Robin,” he muttered, “I love you too much, and you know this.  I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

 

“I feel as if the more you think that something will happen to me, the chances of something happening to me might be greater, love.” She explained, “If I knew you were going to be this way…”

 

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.”

 

“Just trust that things will work out and that we’ll be a family of four come May.  It’s all I ask of you, Chrom.”  She reassured him with a soft kiss to his cheek.  His flushed features were pointed out by Lucina, who poked his face playfully.  It was difficult for Chrom to ease himself about this ordeal—Losing Robin would be devastating to him, yet he knew that he himself would fall ill if he spent every waking moment worrying for her.  She was right…he needed to relax. 

 

“Well, you have your meeting in a few hours.  Perhaps we can have breakfast before then?”

 

“I would love to.” Robin said with a smile, “I’m certainly in the mood for honey on eggs.”

 

“…”

 

“…I’m kidding, I’m craving normal food, I promise.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Robin sat in the tearoom with a few maids and guards at her side, the guards specifically requested by Chrom when word got out that the visitor in question was from their westward neighbors…

 

…who shared the same continent as them.

 

A Plegian messenger, one who donned the traditional garb of the people, as opposed to the garb of the Grimleal that Robin and Chrom were a tad more familiar with.  While Ylisse and Plegia were still bound to their peace agreement from several years prior, even Chrom and Robin would both admit that Ylissean troops invading and killing their leader a _third_ time didn’t exactly sit well with the Plegians, despite that the last king had turned the nation into a theocracy built upon sacrificing its own people to a god. 

 

Regardless, the messenger was simply a messenger, but Robin found that Chrom was still a tad uneasy with the whole situation—a hidden dagger laced with poison would be enough to end his world.  Even Lucina was forbidden to enter the room, having to stay behind with her cousin Owain and aunt Lissa. 

 

“Thank you for your audience, Lady Robin of Ylisse.”

 

“It’s my pleasure, messenger.  Please, proceed.”

 

“Thank you,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “Obviously, you are aware that the Halidom of Ylisse has been tried with the murder of our last king, Validar, as you yourself were present at the time, Lady Robin.  And while in most cases we would use force to seize you and your assets to reprimand you for your crime, you are also aware that whilst King Validar was in power, the Plegian people who did not succumb to the laws of the Grimleal were often persecuted, exiled, and even put to death.”

 

“I am aware of what King Validar did to the good people of Plegia, yes.” Robin replied, “Please be aware that Ylisse never condoned his actions, and we continue to apologize that upon rebuilding our own kingdom after the war we were unaware that Plegia was handed off to the wrong people.  But, please keep in mind that Exalt Chrom and I did not want to impose on Plegia’s change in leadership, as it did not feel right for us to make a decision that might oppressed your people.”  

 

“You talk more like a leader than your father ever did.”

 

The room fell silent…

 

“…I beg your pardon?”

 

“We are well aware that the only living kin to our late king sits to the left of Ylisse’s exalt.  The reason why I seek your audience on this day is to request that you return to the Plegian capital-”

 

“Is this an arrest?” Robin interrupted,

 

“No, my lady.  The regent of Plegia wishes to meet with you, formally, and request that you either take the throne, or rid yourself of your station.  That is all.”

 

“You came off rather hostile by mentioning that we committed a crime, even if you did not approve of King Validar’s rule.  As his….” She cringed, slightly, “As his daughter, I don’t feel as if I will be welcome in your capital.”

 

“Our regent assures you safety, but advises you that some our people might resent you if they find out you are the daughter, and rightful queen, of Plegia.  They would suggest that you perhaps cast aside your robes and gold for something a tad more…subtle.”

 

Robin’s eyes fell to her lap—there was no way Chrom was going to allow her to go there alone.  But she knew what she had to do; she wanted nothing to do with Plegia’s governance.  She wished to rule Ylisse alongside Chrom, and if anything she’d rather have a peaceful relationship with Plegia rather than their current predicament.  Robin had a duty as a queen, and she made a promise to her friends and her children that she would keep the world a peaceful place…even if it meant having to stay in the Plegian capital for a few days.

 

“How soon do you need a response?” she asked,

 

“By dawn of the next day, as I am to depart as the sun rises.”

 

“Then, you shall have your answer by this evening…”  


	2. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom has some issues with Robin's recent proposal. The couple also receives a visitor.

 “No, no, no, absolutely not.  I don’t ever demand anything of you, or forbid you from doing anything, but this is where I draw the line.”

 

“Keep your voice down.”

 

He glanced over to Lucina, who was innocently playing with her toys on the floor close to Robin’s feet—why did she have to bring this up during their late-afternoon tea?  Right in front of Lucina… He couldn’t get over-emotional, nor could he raise his voice in defiance.  But Gods damn it, he did not, in any way, want to see his wife in danger.  Not again. 

 

“I don’t trust them, Robin,” he began, turning himself back to the hearth to poke the fire, “it’s too soon.  Plegia is still in an unstable state.  They had a coup, Robin, do you know what that means?”

 

“You know as well as I do that I know exactly what that is, and how it was done. Please, I’m offended that you’d think otherwise.”

 

“I wasn’t questioning your intelligence at all, love, but I want you to consider my position on this.  To send my queen, someone the enemy very well knows I care more about-”

 

“’Enemy’,” Robin repeated before taking a sip of her coffee, “you keep calling them the ‘enemy’, Chrom.  Were you somehow not there during the peace accord several years ago?  I remember you signing the treaty document and sending it off.  In fact, I believe my name was on it as well.”

 

“And I believe that Validar stealing the Fire Emblem along with the attempted murder of the king of Ylisse broke that accord, Robin.”

 

Robin found it difficult to respond to his statement, as there was truth behind it that Robin could not deny in any way.  Luckily, the sound of the silver platter before her rattling gave her time to think, as Lucina thought it would be better to reach for a biscuit than to ask her mother to hand her one.  Thus, the plate nearly fell from the table before Robin gently grabbed the child’s hand,

 

“I’m sorry.” Lucina whimpered, “I…I didn’t…-”

 

“It’s fine, dear,” Robin cooed, “mommy and daddy were having a conversation, and you didn’t want to interrupt.  Here.”  She handed her daughter the treat, and Lucina went back to playing with her toys. 

 

“Did you really have to bring this up with her in here?” Chrom muttered,

 

“Well, I don’t necessarily have much time, you know?”

 

“A simple ‘no’ should suffice.”

 

“But I’m not going to say ‘no’, Chrom.” Robin said while placing her cup and saucer down, “You think I would believe that you’d take this news lightly? Of course not.  I’m well aware that you have grown up never seeing anything worthy of praise from our neighbors.  I understand that, Chrom.  Plegia has done you wrong, and Ylisse has done Plegia wrong as well in the past...”

 

She noticed his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes darting away from her, and he immediately began to stab at the burning wood below.  She was greeted with silence on that matter…

 

“…But you must also understand this, Chrom, as you and I both know the elephant in the room…”

 

“…You’re Plegian and you’re the rightful heir to the throne, I know.” He admitted with a whisper, “And that’s what terrifies me, Robin; they overthrew the Grimleal and have since hunted them all down for their crimes against the people.  Even if you want nothing more than for Plegia to return to its peaceful state, what say that they won’t make sure that the last remaining ‘bloodline’ to Grima, or whatever, is eradicated…you know?”

 

“…I’m well aware of that matter, Chrom.  Trust me, I know that there’s a chance that this might be a trap. Your logic is sound, and your worry is very much vindicated.  This is a risk, but at the same time, this is a mess that I, myself, need to fix.  You know as well as I do that we can’t run from this.  The longer we hold out on this, the worse it might get.  If your assumptions are correct, then what is to say they won’t attempt to storm our capital?  If their intentions are to truly eradicate my bloodline, then-”

 

“Stop,” Chrom quickly turned from the fire, eyes filled with anxiety as he looked towards his wife and child, “I don’t…I don’t want to think about that.”

 

“…She’s half-Plegian, you know?” Robin continued, “And they’ll know.  And if they wait until Morgan is-”

 

“Robin, please, stop,” he begged, “please, stop.”

 

“Do you see why we need to address this as soon as possible, preferably away from Ylisstol?”

 

“Is there any way we can meet in the middle?” he asked, “I don’t know…a parley? At the border?  You’re pregnant, Robin.  Gods, that’s so far for you.”

 

She gave him a reassuring smile, “Chrom, if it were the middle of the summer traveling in a carriage for a few days, I might have some qualms.  But, I think I can manage.  Plus, I’d rather not the news go any further than our castle walls at the current moment.  Again, I have your worries in mind…and if things were to go south, I’d rather no one have that leverage on you.”

 

“Would you please stop saying such things!?” Chrom interjected, much to Lucina’s discomfort as she whimpered slightly from her father’s outburst. With an exasperated sigh, Robin retrieved herself from her seat to tend to their daughter,

 

“There, there, Luci.  It’s ok, daddy just got a little upset.  No one’s mad.  Daddy’s just a little scared, you know?  When _you_ get scared, you tend to get a little loud, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Robin proceeded to thumb away a few tears from Lucina’s cheeks, “Mommy said something that made daddy scared….” She veered her attention to Chrom, “…And she’s very sorry she said that.”

 

“…And mommy is forgiven.” Chrom said, very clearly to show Lucina that he wasn’t mad at Robin in any way…but he was, indeed, quite anxious, “Daddy’s alright, Luci.”

 

“Ok.” The child said, clutching the stuffed animal in her arms, “Mommy, when’s Noire gonna get here?”

 

“Noire?” Chrom said, “Robin, you-”

 

“…As I said, I knew you weren’t going to favor this idea, and I was aware of your worries.  However, I would have hoped you would know me better by now…I’ve always got a plan to get us through our trials, love.  You married a tactician, after all….”

 

* * *

 

 

Her clicking heels along the stone flooring only added to her eerie aura, her dark cloak dragging along the floor in the most dramatic fashion.  While Chrom still stood mildly creeped out by her presence, Robin was happy to see that Tharja had not changed since their battle with Grima. 

 

She donned her usual garb, though it had more of a Ylissean flair to it since her promotion to Ylisse’s leading dark mage—a contract created between her and the crown, allowing her to practice her dark magic skills while also licensing her to train young mages gifted enough to use the magic responsibly.  Ylisse never supported this school of magic until Robin vouched for mages like Tharja and Henry in court, claiming that Ylisse could have a better defensive line if they were able to use the long-distance spells provided in this particular school.  While Tharja and Henry weren’t exactly the _best_ defendants of Robin’s testimony, given that they both had a history of hexes that caused a few people grief, the Ylissean court granted the opportunity for only a small class of mages to study under Tharja’s care (Henry declined the offer; sitting in a classroom was rather boring for him).  Many of the students dropped within the first few months, stating that Tharja’s expectations were a tad too high—but as Tharja told Ricken, long ago, ‘Casting hexes is not a hobby to be picked up on a whim, hexes and curses are a different animal…’.  Therefore, she continued to hold other young, naïve mages to that ideal…to their dismay.  But she took her job seriously, especially given that it was Robin, of all people, who wanted her to work closely with the crown. That in itself was a blessing to her. 

 

“I see that he didn’t take it well.” Tharja muttered with a small smirk, “He’s very tense. Very upset.  I can even see how stiff his shoulders are.”

 

“You don’t need to berate him, Tharja.  He’s rightfully upset.”

 

“I’ll watch my tongue.” She turned on her heel to the small child clinging to her cloak, “Noire, go play with Lucina.  Mother has her business to attend to.” 

 

Unlike the Noire from the future, this Noire was a tad less skittish and overall a bit more level-headed.  While Tharja didn’t wish to admit, openly, the love for her daughter, she knew well that Noire didn’t deserve to be raised the way she was beforehand.  Therefore, upon bringing her daughter into the world, Tharja vowed that Noire wouldn’t be the subject to her experimentation.  Though she wasn’t quite old enough to help, Tharja made it explicitly clear that Noire would become her assistant once she was able to walk without tripping.  Tharja went into detail how Noire would help her carry books, materials, and eventually learn how to harvest more _peculiar_ ingredients for hexes.  While Robin and Chrom cringed at the thought of the later, at least Tharja had no plans on treating her daughter the way she was treated in the other timeline.  That alone gave them peace. 

 

“…Well, run along now.”

 

The two year old, still confused on the matter, ambled towards Lucina, who gave her friend a bright and friendly smile. 

 

“We’re gonna play house!” Lucina said, taking her hand, “And I wanna show you my toys!”

 

Noire wasn’t one for talking, but she gave a small nod and went along with Lucina and her nurse. 

 

“Thank you for aiding us, Tharja.” Robin began, “You know Plegia better than we do, after all.”

 

“Oh, ‘we’?” Tharja cocked her brow a bit, “Was there something I missed in your letter?”

 

“I’m going with her,” Chrom said, “I’d rather Robin be with someone aside from just our royal guard.  Frederick unfortunately has to stay behind.”

 

“Oh, yes, congratulations on his new bundle of joy, I suppose.” Tharja sighed, “Well, don’t get too huffy with me when I have to tell you that you can’t bring your fancy sword with you.  I’ll have to adjust my plan slightly, but so long as you,” her cold eyes went directly to Chrom, “…follow orders, Exalt, and behave yourself, you should have no issues existing in the capital incognito.”

 

“Tharja.”

 

“I meant no disrespect, of course.  I was simply giving fair warning.  You wouldn’t want to be caught waltzing around town with a sacred blade and tipping off every enemy of yours that you’re out and about with your wife, now, would you?  I would absolutely _hate_ to hear that Robin’s life was put in danger because her cover was blown…”

 

“Yes, the messenger did say that we couldn’t exactly parade around as the visiting Queen and Exalt because of current tensions, right?”

 

“I’ve written home a bit, and it’s true that there are some radicals that exist who would wish to see every Grimleal dead, on sight.  Though luckily you bear no resemblance to Validar, so you have that going for you. As for getting you into the city, obviously going through the front door with an Ylissean coach is out of the question if you don’t want to make a scene.  Luckily, my family still has a bit of leverage and can get you through one of the smaller entrances…for a price.”

 

“…How much gold?” Chrom asked, curiously.

 

“Oh, not gold,” Tharja snickered, “in exchange for that they’ll probably want a royal hand.  Severed.  Probably.” She chuckled while watching the blood drain from Chrom’s face,

 

“I think she’s joking, Chrom.”

 

“You can believe what you want, once we reach the gate you’ll find out if I’m lying or not.”

 

“Can we just move on?” Chrom coughed, “Please.”

 

“Boring.” Tharja muttered, “Regardless, Robin has also asked that I come with you on this venture, you know, just in case. I can counter any curse, any hex, and certainly turn your enemies into rats if I wanted to.  No one will harm her.” 

 

Both Tharja and Robin noticed the slight slump in the exalt’s shoulders, to which Tharja once again let a small snicker pass her lips.  Robin straightened up slightly while clearing her throat,

 

“Thank you, Tharja.  As always, Chrom and I appreciate your help.  I have nothing but faith that you’ll make this whole venture infinitely easier for us.”

 

“For you, yes.” Tharja pointed out with a smirk, “You will be under my watchful eye, Robin. All the time.  Everywhere you go.”

 

“Is that necessary?” Chrom muttered under his breath, though Tharja’s eyes darted to him the second he spoke,

 

“Yes.”

 

“So, uh,” Robin, once again, cleared her throat to waft away the awkward air, “so long as we have you on board, I’ll let the messenger know that I’ll be departing by the end of the week-”

 

“I already told him.”

 

“…I-I see.”

 

“Anyway, I’ll leave you two to your…whatever you do…things….yeah.  I need to gather a few things for some…fun little preparations.  But before I go, I do need a lock of your hair-”

 

“No you don’t.” Chrom said,

 

“Yes, I do.  You think I can make a protection ward for someone without some sort of essence?  I guess you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“It’s still really unsettling from where I’m standing.”

 

“Well, my lord,” Tharja’s lips curled into that of a mocking gesture, “do you not wish to ensure the safety of your wife and spawn?  How selfish.”

 

“Both of you, please.” Robin huffed, “I’m really starting to get a headache from this.”

 

“I’ll see myself out for the moment.  Don’t worry, though…I’ll get that lock of hair.”

 

And with that, the mage turned on her heel and went back to presumably her own study in the catacombs of the castle (her own choice, as Robin offered her a much nicer study in the upper end of the academic ward).  Chrom heavily sighed and even went so far as to prop himself up against one of the pillars in the hall,

 

“That was exhausting.”

 

“I’ll ask her to tone it down a bit on the trip…”

 

“…Robin, did they mess up trimming your bangs?”

 

“I didn’t get my hair trimmed-”

 

And they both stared at the slightly shorter piece of hair that curved around the tactician’s visage…

 

…How did she do that?

 


	3. Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom and Robin (accompanied by Tharja) arrive in Plegia. They have no choice but to stay the night, and Chrom expressed to Robin some of his other concerns...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: An apology is in order since there's a bit of an issue with this chapter considering that Chrom and Robin HAVE been to castle Plegia before, albeit quickly and not on the best terms. Therefore, minor edits have been made from the original version for accuracy, yet it's understandable that there might be some confusion. For the sake of not having to re-write most of the chapter, we will assume Chrom and Robin's visit to the castle in the third part to Awakening was extremely short, and due to Validar and the Grimleal influence there might have been some altercations. Thank you for your understanding!

Another bump caused the queen to rip herself from her slumber, the heat from the midday sun causing the cabin of the carriage to become quite stuffy—shedding her cloak would suffice, before her husband brought her back in for comfort.  Her ear pressed up against his chest, but the erratic thumping of his heartbeat kept her wide awake. She knew it wasn’t his usual quiver of delight to have his beloved in his arms, nay, it was the pulse of an anxious king, heading into territory he longed to have forgotten.  When the giant skull of a fallen dragon came into view, framing the Plegian capitol with its gaping maw, Chrom only felt that painful mix of both sorrow and resentment. 

 

He remembered it clearly—his sister’s body falling from that height, head-first into the sand traps below, never to be found…never to be recovered.  The skeletons of Phila and her knights, along with their steeds, most likely lay there unmoved.  Nothing hurt worse than to hold several funerals with empty caskets.  Nothing hurt worse than to write letters of condolence to the loved ones of Phila’s knights.  To bypass a graveyard in their cozy carriage seemed like nothing more than a mocking gesture, yet Chrom bowed his head in remembrance to them all.

 

Being in strife with Plegia would have left all of their deaths in vain…

 

“I love you…” Robin whispered into his ear, the slightest bit of comfort the weary queen to give to a still-mourning man.  Chrom simply took her hand in his, pressing his lips to the back of her palm and resting it upon his lap, as gently as he could.  But she was stubborn, and her palm went back to his to intertwine with it for comfort. 

 

“Cute.” Tharja muttered, only sitting a few feet away from them, opposite to them, with a pile of books at her side and one balanced oh-so-carefully upon her knee.  She glanced out the carriage window with a blank stare, but the scene itself reminded her of that fateful day, the day she met Robin.  The day she defected, banishing herself from her home to pursue the one thing she sought after.  While she would never truly obtain her ultimate, precious, and beautiful treasure, she still found a home in Ylisse with her husband and child.  She found a sense of peace, and, of course, she was still free to stay by her treasure’s side…even if said treasure’s husband became that of an obstacle at times.

 

“…What are you reading, Tharja?” Robin asked quietly in order to spark up some sort of conversation for the remainder of the ride,

 

“A little bit of this and that.  Nothing too trivial. Just minor things.”

 

There couldn’t be a vaguer answer….

 

“Good talk.” And Robin went right back to focusing on sleep.  She needed the energy, after all. 

 

“You’re not feeling sick or anything, are you, love?”

 

“No, I just…didn’t sleep well last night, Chrom.  I’ll be fine.”

 

“You know,” Tharja grunted, “the silence was a little nicer, if you ask me.”

 

And an awkward silence was granted shortly after, both exalt and queen finding that sitting together in pure silence would suffice for the comfort they both needed—Robin for her fear of this meeting, and Chrom as he sat there reminded of the strife between both nations and blood spilled because of that.  Neither of them, deep down, wanted to be there.

 

The carriage eventually came to a halt at the southern end of the city wall, the guard approaching the coach driver inquiring why an Ylissean carriage required such a special entrance.  That’s when Tharja slammed her book shut and removed herself from the cabin, calling the guard over with a simple curl of her index finger.  There was a bit of murmuring on her end, inaudible to the king and queen to her right.  Chrom tried to keep his breath paced normally, but Robin found it difficult to draw air in that moment.

 

…

 

Tharja got back into the cabin, and the carriage lurched forward as it entered the city.  She simply went back to reading, while Chrom and Robin sat there, quietly, but in confusion nonetheless. 

 

“…Would like to tell us what you said?” Chrom asked,

 

“Had to make sure the guard wasn’t a defect,” Tharja explained halfheartedly, “I put a truth hex on him first and asked him if there were others behind the gate waiting to seize your carriage.  He said ‘no’, so I pressed him a bit more.  Guards don’t tend to know much past what’s immediately beyond the gate and a schedule of what’s coming in, and out, of the city.  Apparently your names aren’t on the record, but they expected you to come through the main gate with an Ylissean noble carriage.”

 

“I don’t see the problem, then.” Chrom interrupted,

 

“Those records are rather public. Plegia is a mercantile state, after all.  Every merchant has a list of what’s scheduled to come in and out of the gate—but merchants are merchants, and some can be greedy and bought off.  I thought you would know better…” 

 

“So we took the backway in because it’s not a main entrance for caravans, right?”

 

“Yes.  The only thing that comes through _this_ gate are usually civilians.  However, when the guards stationed there owe your family a debt…you can tend to bypass them without any paperwork.”

 

“Tharja, that’s…that’s quite the plan.” Robin hummed, “I’m very impressed.” 

 

And of course, any praise from Robin caused the mage’s lips to quiver and curl,

 

“I do what I can for you, Robin.”

 

* * *

 

 

Large sandstone pillars, gold and red banners, real gold trim along the outside walls—the palace of Plegia was just as he remembered long ago—grand, luxurious, and the symbol of a thriving, wealthy nation.  Even burdened by years of war, a dark theocracy, and a coup, the country never lost that sense of pride in their trade.  And the palace itself, well, Ylisstol lacked everything it had.  Chrom sank into his seat at the thought, eyes narrowing at the sight of such glory. 

 

“I take it you’re not too impressed.” Tharja pointed out, “I’m sure once you see the inside, the  _real_ inside, the you’ll be even…err…well, we’ll just say you might be ‘less’ impressed.”

 

“Wait, those guards…they’re dark mages.” Robin hissed, “Oh, no-”

 

“Don’t let the garb fool you, they’re nothing special. See?  They have spears, not tomes.  It’s simply what they wear, Robin.  Also, those are gold-headed spears.” Tharja explained,

 

“What?” Robin cocked her brow, “You can’t-”

 

“Exactly.  It’s just for show.  They’re not here to harm you.”

 

“They’d better not be.” Chrom muttered as he was the first to leave the carriage, hand on the concealed iron blade under his cloak.  Tharja looked towards Robin with the look that simply said, ‘you best go to his side before he does something stupid’. 

 

“Greetings,” one of the guards called out before stopping only a few feet away from the exalt, “are you by chance the vassal for Lady Robin?  We’ve been expecting her.”

 

“V-Vassal-?”

 

“No,” Robin interjected, carefully removing herself from the coach, “That is my husband you are speaking with, though I assume it is I who you’re looking for?”

 

“Robin-”

 

“Ah, Lady Robin! Yes, yes, the queen has been expecting you.” The guard said with a slight bow, “Forgive us, we did not expect Ylisse’s exalt to be joining as well.”

 

“All is well, I assure you.  Not everyone is aware of our image, after all.”

 

“This is true, our queen said to only be on lookout for a carriage, no description was provided.  I pray that you had a safe journey?”

 

“I’ll admit, it’s been a bit since we’ve traversed Plegia’s climate.  But, if you don’t mind, we’d like to rest for a moment inside…”

 

Chrom’s eyes darted to his wife, mouth slightly agape in awe.  She stood firm, yet her words were polite and almost regal—she truly was meant for this station.  While he had seen Robin act as queen in the past, this was the first time he felt…completely powerless.  She had taken this task all on her own, and he was simply there for moral support and protection.

 

Gods, he really was just a vassal…

 

The guards lead both king and queen into the palace, Tharja straying behind but instantly preoccupied with another mage whom she seemed to know. 

 

“So much for guarding you.”

 

“Something tells me she’s already doing that even if she’s not directly behind me.”

 

“Ah, hello, hello Lady Robin and Lord Chrom.” A middle-aged man said as he approached both Robin, Chrom, and the guards, clad in Plegian berserker armor yet with a hearty grin upon his features, “I never thought I’d see you two again, especially without arms and in silk, nonetheless.”

 

“…Forgive me,” Chrom started, “I…don’t believe we’ve met before.”

 

“Oh, we have,” he said with a chuckle, “but the last time I saw you, you were ‘bout six or so years younger, I believe.  More youthful, as was I.”

 

“I beg pardon?”

 

“You spared me at Midmire,” he said, flatly, “I was a young lieutenant at the time, under General Mustafa.  You pointed your blade at me right after killin’ him, and you looked me in the eyes with all that hatred in ya.  My platoon was called to evacuate under his final orders and you let me go.  Had you not done that, I wouldn’t be standin’ here as the head knight of the Plegian guard…”

 

Chrom lowered his hand from his side, “…I’m sorry.”

 

“No need to apologize, Exalt,” the man explained, “That’s what war is.  Again, glad ya spared me.  But, I didn’t come here to remind ya of the past.  ‘Queen sent me to let ya know that she can’t see ya today, as she didn’t know you two would arrive so soon.  That bein’ said, you’re free to go about the castle and city as you see fit.  Plegia will be your home as it is mine.  But be warned, I’d still take caution if you’re leaving the halls.  However, heh, there are some good shops you might want to look at.  Some jewelry doesn’t make it to your part of the world, so perhaps you might wanna treat your lady, huh?”

 

Chrom’s face grew red as the knight chuckled, giving Chrom a firm pat on his shoulder before heading off with a few more guards.  Chrom shook off the feeling, turning to their guide with an irritated twitch in his eye,

 

“Our room?”

 

“Yes, right this way.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I’m not going out _shopping_.”

 

“Are you actually offended that someone made a suggestion for you to do something while we’re here?” 

 

“We’re not here on vacation, Robin.”

 

“Chrom…”  She watched the exalt flop down face-first onto the bed, but the low and angry groan from deep within his throat couldn’t be muted by the white duvet, “…You know, I won’t even apologize for speaking out of line.  You’re acting like a child.”

 

“What is this? _Goose down_?”

 

“You’re serious…”

 

“I hate this.”

 

“Could you please relax? Honestly, if anyone should be moody here, it’s _me.”_ And she, too, flopped onto the bed with an exasperated sigh, “Oh, Gods…this _is_ comfortable. What, is the mattress fluffed with it, too?  And the pillows?”

 

“You’re not exactly helping the situation.”

 

“My prideful prince,” she hummed, propping her feet up and laying back upon the comfortable pillows provided, “…Gods, my feet are killing me.”

 

“…There’s a _free flowing water basin_.” He pointed out while lifting his head from the mattress, “And are those figs on the table over there?”

 

“I think yogurt, too…this is actually very kind of them.  You know, it’s not often you hear of a nation servicing a king and queen so lavishly.  This is really nice.”

 

“Since when did you start enjoying things like this?”

 

“What?  Chrom, it’s _nice_ …I’m allowed to enjoy _nice things_.”

 

“Hm? Funny, I do feel like you’ve got a different disposition, now.  Perhaps this is something you’d rather have?”

 

He seemed rather offended, possibly with the feeling that Robin might have looked down upon Ylisse after experiencing Plegia’s luxuries.

 

“…Chrom, you’re overreacting. I just spent hours in a hot carriage, already uncomfortable because I’m carrying our baby, with a headache beyond belief! This is literally the most comfortable I’ve felt in quite some time; could you please let me have a moment?”

 

“I just,” he stood up to free himself from the beds oddly hypnotic and comforting embrace, “I just…I don’t know…”

 

“You feel jealous.” She pointed out, flatly, “Not only do you still carry anger for Plegia, but you’re jealous of their resources.  You’ve never been here before, during a time of peace, have you?”

 

“…No, I have not.”

 

“So it’s a shock.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Can I tell you something?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I love you, I love Ylisse, and I love our home.” She said clearly, even placing a hand over her small baby bump, “I wouldn’t want anything else in this world. Yes, this bed is very comfortable.  Yes, the snacks provided are quite lavish compared to our biscuits, tea, and dried meat.  Yes, the free-flowing water basin is a very nice touch.  All of this is _very nice_ , but it’s not home.  It will never be home.”

 

“….” He sighed once more, speechless, and ultimately upset with himself over his behavior.  Everything she said was true, and even he would agree that he was acting a bit childish.  To make it up to her, he went to her side of the bed, sat down, and carefully put his wife’s feet in his lap, “…I just want you to be happy.  Yeah, this stuff is really nice. Ylisse can’t afford gold trim or anything of the sort.  Ever since my father was in power, we lost most of our luxuries and wealth _because_ we went to war against Plegia, who traded with us back then.  What we have now, is basically what was leftover before that.”

 

“And am I a woman to blame you for this?  No. Never.”

 

He sat there in silence, though he did her the service of rubbing her swollen feet just as he did when she carried Lucina.  That at least put a smile on her lips, and even warranted a soft moan,

 

“You really _are_ enjoying this.”

 

“A soft bed, rare little delicacies, the white noise of the water through the aqueducts, and my handsome husband treating me to a small massage certainly puts me in a rather relaxed state, yes.”

 

Chrom cleared his throat and said, rather hoarsely, “...I honestly haven’t seen you this relaxed since our honeymoon.”

 

“Chrom, we haven’t had a vacation _since_ our honeymoon…”

 

“This isn’t a vacation.”

 

“No, you’re right, it’s not.  But…” she trailed off, nuzzling her head into the pillow and looking upon him with her shimmering eyes and warm smile, “…we can pretend for a moment, can we not?”

 

“We’re not exactly in the position to be fully vulnerable, Robin.”

 

“Were we not when we last went out?  There were still defects then…”

 

Chrom looked off to the side with reddened cheeks, “…For once, my tactician is being a bit careless.”

 

“Can I, for once?”

 

“Gods, how can I deny you when you look at me like that?”

 

He checked one more time over his shoulder before leaning down and sharing kisses with his wife for the rest of the evening.  No one disturbed them.


	4. Morgana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin meets with a stranger. Some of her past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quite a bit of speculation here, so bear with me. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Much to her regret, Robin had no choice but to leave the comfort of their bed to take a walk in the early morn.  Even with the feathered mattress and pillows, her cramping in her legs and general discomfort was inevitable in her state.  Not wanting to wake her husband, she slid from the chamber, unattended, for what she promised to be no longer than half of an hour.  While it was a decision that Chrom would scold her for later, Robin felt something deep within her…as if something were calling out to her from down the hall.  Something familiar to her. 

 

So she set off, slowly walking down the hall yet feeling the eerie eyes of the portraits that lined the walls staring at the back of her head, or so it felt like it.  A few guards were posted at a T in the corridor, and even a few maids were seen going in and out of rooms.  For the most part, no one acknowledged her aside from a ‘Good morning’ and the servants whispering in inquiry if that truly was the queen of Ylisse.  It seemed as if she were free to roam the halls as she pleased, like Plegia had nothing to hide.  Still, she moved on, following this small, almost mute voice that called to her. 

 

But her stroll led her down a darker hallway, absent of any fixtures save for a few sconces with a dying blaze.  She stopped in her tracks, unwilling to traverse down a ways where harm might find her.  Even with a small dagger hidden within her gown, she would be no match against any dark mages if Tharja’s ward had worn off.  A fruitless attempt at shaking her hunch, but she chose to abandon her venture and head back to the guestroom before Chrom woke up.

 

However, whatever lay in the darkness had other plans, and as soon as she turned a hand grasped her shoulder. 

 

“Back!” she yelped, whipping around and unsheathing the only blade she brought into the city, “Come no closer.”

 

“….you really are her.”  A raspy voice, one of an elder woman, perhaps, but nonetheless unidentifiable from beneath the black cloak that the figure donned before her.  The ‘woman’ retrieved her bony hand from the queen’s shoulder, hiding it back under her robes but not before lowering her cowl for Robin, “I…did not mean to startle you.  Perhaps I should have stated my presence sooner…”

 

“…Who are you?” Robin asked, still armed with the blade pointing right at the figure.  She was, indeed, an older Plegian woman.  Thin, hunched over, hair white as snow and eyes sunken with age and exhaustion.  She didn’t look like a warrior, but certainly a seasoned mage nonetheless.  She had seen better days…

 

“…My name is not one you would be familiar with, child.” She woman explained, “But, you can say that I have known you for a while, ‘Fell child’.”

 

Robin’s eyes narrowed at that phrase,

 

“That is not what I am anymore.  That blood within me is gone.”

 

“That is correct, I do not sense the Fell Dragon’s presence in this corridor.” The woman chuckled softly, “But…even lacking the brand, even lacking the aura, you cannot deny your lineage or your past, child.”

 

“I have no business here with you,” Robin shot back,

 

“But you do.” The woman interrupted, freeing her hands from her cloak to show that there were no weapons of any kind on her person, “I am not a fighter, nor am I a mage, child.  I am simply the last remainder of your past…the last one to see you before your mother took you away.”

 

Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes widening and dagger shaking along with her hand, “I was told that the Grimleal were eradicated after the coup.  How could you have gotten in here?”

 

“Mercy.  I am but an old hierophant, and while I served the Grimleal and planned to sacrifice myself to Grima at the Dragon’s Table, I was detained by the people’s army before I could make it there.  They were going to torture me for answers, but realized that I was too old and would have most likely died by their hands before I gave them any information.  So they threw me in some remote prison until they could figure out how to handle the Validar situation.  That being said...when word got out that the Fell Dragon had been slain by none other than the Exalt of Ylisse and the Fell Dragon’s vessel herself, I felt no need to comply with the Grimleal any longer.”

 

“So your god fell and you became a traitor?”

 

“Anything to live, child.  And I knew I had to survive this long, because I have one thing left I have to do. I promised a young woman long ago, who was under my care as my ward and my student, that I would give the answers to the one seeking them.” She chuckled softly once again, “You could call me ‘grandmama’ if you’d like, Robin.  It would feel nice to know that I still have a family before I die.”

 

The blade dropped to the floor, but Robin continued to stare at the woman in disbelief,

 

“You’re saying that you cared for my mother?”

 

“I did.” The woman gave her a nod, “Young Morgana, the brightest mage in all of Plegia, abandoned by her parents at the priory before she even knew how to read.  I knew that she would have been an asset to the Grimleal in terms of arcane power.  And to the others, my peers, she had the womb needed to make the _perfect being_...”

 

“Disgusting,” Robin muttered, “you’re lying.”

 

“I know Validar told you of your birthright, how he himself couldn’t take upon the helm of Grima’s vessel.  How he fathered a child who had the heart of Grima, and the brand.  How his aspirations were to bring darkness and death upon the world to Grima’s liking...  I have no reason to lie to you, Robin.  I thought that you might have wanted to know of your past, since you still cannot recall anything before meeting the child of Naga.”

 

Robin’s silence was an indicator of her intrigue, yet the look of horror on her features almost begged the mysterious woman to stop.  But she knew that, deep down, these were the words she _needed_ to hear.  She needed that closure.  She needed to know of her mother, who now had a name…

 

“Morgana,” Robin muttered, “so that was her name?”

 

“Indeed.  Validar took on many wives in order to create the perfect being.  Time and time again he failed, and those half-siblings of yours are no more.  But he believed he needed the perfect child, just as his ancestor Forneus wished to create the perfect being years ago.”

 

“Forneus?”

 

“The ‘creator’ as we learned to call him, yes.  He existed long before the time of the hero king, and he gave Grima life, feeding him his own blood to make him stronger. Though this tale is much lost to time, there was a faction of the Grimleal who knew that our god came from one man…”

 

“You’re telling me that Grima was…man-made?”

 

“…It was a blasphemous belief, but certainly a piece of information held by the hierophants in secrecy.  None were aware of this, and most followers assumed Grima had the same divinity as Ylisse’s Naga.  But for generations, your father’s family was believed to be the decedents of Forneus, and your father believed that he could do the same thing that Forneus did: create the ultimate human being, and raise an army of the dead.  He was determined to resurrect our god, and simultaneously go down as the one to create the one true perfect being who would house him.  That being sad…he needed the perfect woman to bear his child…and that was Morgana.” 

 

She woman sighed, sulking as if she were becoming weaker,

 

“And I let it all happen.  She knew nothing of your fate when she conceived you, and your father had no love for her, or you, I assure you.  To lay with the man who came from ‘the creator’ was an honor in our faction of the Grimleal.  Your mother believed us when we told her that she was chosen as a queen, and that Validar offered his hand to her with love and adoration.  But when you were born with the brand, your father disclosed with your mother his plans for you.  Marked as a traitor when she held you to her bosom, and wept, and refused to let him near you, she fled into the night.  How she survived those years in hiding from both the Grimleal and your Father-in-law’s army was but a miracle.  I know nothing past the night I helped her escape.”

 

“You set her up…” Robin muttered with an acidic tone, “You set my mother up!  You knew what he was going to do, and you allowed him to use her as his pawn!  You lied to her!”

 

“I did.” The woman said, “I betrayed Morgana.  I never said I was a saint, Robin.  But had I not betrayed her, you wouldn’t have been born.  Regardless, I carry my own guilt.  When I look at you, I see her.  I see the woman I betrayed.  I remember looking her in the eyes as she begged for help, and that’s why I aided her escape.  That’s why I’m here, telling her daughter the truth…” 

 

A moment of silence.  Robin tried to keep her thoughts straight.  She was still wary of this woman, and continued to wonder if what she said was true.  She tried to think, she tried her best to recover any sort of memory.  Anything.  But alas, nothing more than a blank.  But something in her heart made her tear up, just hearing the word ‘Morgana’ caused her to freeze.  The word… _was_ familiar to her.  She simply couldn’t recall _where_ she had heard it.

 

…Perhaps this was the truth. 

 

“…How did she die?”

 

“That I do not know.”

 

“I see…”

 

“But, she loved you, Robin.  She cried when you were born.  She hated your father, but seeing your smile, your likeness to her, and knowing well that you were the pinnacle of perfection in her eyes…you were her light.”

 

“I suppose I just don’t have all the answers, still.  It seems like I’ll never know what sort of woman she was to me.”

 

“Considering how you are now sitting on Ylisse’s throne, wishing for nothing but peace for your world and going against every wish of your father, I can say with confidence that Morgana would be nothing but proud of you. She would smile the same way she did when you were born, no doubt.  Your tactical knowledge and skills for the arcane arts did not come from thin air, child.  She taught you everything.  She wanted you to be as bright as she was.”

 

“…Thank you.” Robin gasped, trying to keep her tears at bay, “Thank you.  Please, let me know your name.”

 

The woman chuckled once more, fixing her gaze onto Robin with her near-toothless grin.  Robin awaited her answer, but the sound of a metal sword clanging violently upon the belt of her husband startled her, especially as he grabbed her by her arm in a panic,

 

“Robin! Gods, there you are!”

 

“Chrom?” breaking from her daze, the queen turned to her lord in shock, gazing upon the panting man who looked as if he was in the midst of a panic attack,

 

“Robin, why in the seven hells are you down here?  I woke up and you were gone!  Gods, love, please don’t scare me like that…”

 

“Chrom, Chrom, it’s fine.  Forgive me, I just…I was talking to this woman and-”

 

“What woman?”

 

Turning back, only a well-lit hallway met her gaze.  Despite its illumination, it still appeared as if no living creature had traversed it in some time.  What was left of the old woman, at least where she stood, was a roll of parchment.  Curiously, the tactician took hold of the article and unraveled it rather slowly. 

 

…Though worn, it was a sort of rough ink drawing of a woman with a child in her arms.  Her smile was discernable, and even Chrom went so far as to say,

 

“Why is there a painting of you lying on the floor, Robin?”

 

Unraveling it further, the description scribbled at the bottom said ‘Lady Morgana & child of perfection” in black ink.  Presumably, someone had planned to have a full painting commissioned of Validar’s ‘wife’ and child to commemorate the birth of Grima’s vessel.  Though if what the woman said was true, Morgana fled long before that painting could ever be completed. 

 

“…Robin?” Chrom asked rather quietly, “Are you ok? Who…who is Morgana?”

 

With a light quiver in her lip, Robin turned to her husband, head immediately going to the crook of his neck,

 

“Mother,” she whimpered softly, “thank you. Thank you.”

 

Chrom slowly put his arms around her, kissing the top of her head while gently rocking them both back and forth where they stood.  He allowed her to weep, understanding the situation without her having to explain it.  Though he wasn’t aware of the full conversation, Chrom could tell that, by some means, Robin learned of her mother.  He wouldn’t take that away from her, he wouldn’t argue with her that she needed to leave the whole ‘Grima’ bloodline in the past. 

 

Robin lived a checkered life, and while he himself vowed to try to give her memories that would mask the fact that she could not recall her own past, Chrom couldn’t help but to wish that she could at least recall something.  Anything.  Anything to give her peace.

 

While he himself knew nothing of this ‘Morgana’, he knew at the very least that, that woman saved his wife from bringing ruin upon their world.  Had Morgana not done what she did, Robin wouldn’t be cradled in his arms at that very moment.  He wouldn’t have met her, he wouldn’t have had two beautiful children with her, and most likely…he wouldn’t have been alive at that time, had Robin not saved him. 

 

“My precious Robin,” he muttered, softly pulling her away and touching his nose to hers, “my precious little bird…I’m so happy to have you here by my side.   While the Gods might have been cruel to the both of us when we were young, and they took away the people who raised us, in the end…we will move forward, together, as two halves of a greater whole.  And with that, I couldn’t be happier that our bonds were strong enough to bring you back to me.”

 

“…Since when were you a man of words?”

 

There it was, her gentle smile, the same smile in the portrait.  The light of his world.  The smile that gave her mother hope.  And a contagious gesture at that, for Chrom smiled back at her with the same radiance.  While ‘perfection’ might not have been an apt description for the tactician, at the very least, two people would agree that Robin’s existence was not only a miracle, but a blessing...

 

He certainly owed Morgana a debt, one he hoped to repay by giving her daughter the best life she could possibly live.  That, he would vow…


	5. Torch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom and Robin meet with the regent of Plegia. The torch is passed.

Still a bit shaken from the morning’s events, Robin kept to herself until the late afternoon, patiently awaiting the moment when she would be called upon by Plegia’s regent.  Her fingers coiled at the very thought of her roots—all of the new information swirling in her head, pieces floating in thin air with nothing to ground them.  Nothing to connect them.  Still, all of her memories were gone.  Even with the reveal of her mother’s name, even with the reveal of her origins, Robin felt nothing stir in her mind.  Nay, only her heart.  But the emotions were confusing in a way, a mix of sadness and even loneliness.  Her mother was forced into a courtship she didn’t necessarily want, and subsequently killed because of Robin’s existence. 

 

“…If only he were alive…I’d give him one final blow in your honor, Morgana…”

 

“Robin?”

 

She didn’t realize Chrom had been standing in the Plegian tea room near the entrance, his appearance rather messy as if he had hastily dressed himself.  Though he had two small balls wrapped in parchment in his arms—souvenirs, perhaps?  This puzzled the Queen,

 

“Where have you been all afternoon?” she asked, “After breakfast I went for a bath and, well, I was surprised to see you weren’t standing at the entrance waiting for me….”

 

“I meant no ill with that, my love.  I just…” with a soft sigh, he took a seat on the couch she sat upon and offered her one of the packages, “…I wanted to surprise you.”

 

“Surprise me?” she asked curiously, placing a hand on the package and feeling an odd warmth from it, “What do you mean by this?”

 

“Well, I, uhm…” he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks slightly flushed, “…Can’t your husband go out and spoil you a bit?”

 

“I meant no disrespect.”

 

“You’re fine, love.  Just go ahead and open it.”

 

Without much hesitation, Robin undid the twine around the parchment and unraveled the package to reveal two small pastry-like treats in her lap.  They had a golden-brown sheen, as if they had been cooked in oil or fat, similar to a few dishes back in Ylisse.  The smell that wafted upwards caused Robin’s eyes to flutter for a moment—something in the back of her mind told her that this was a familiar scent.  However, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it…

 

“What are these?”

 

“Well,” he began, looking up towards the ceiling, “while you were taking a bath I asked Tharja if she could, uhh…take me into town for a bit-”

 

“You went _into town_?” she interjected, “I didn’t think you’d have any interest in spending your gold here, at least from how you’ve been acting the past couple of days…”

Chrom went silent for a moment, but eventually he broke a soft smile towards his beloved,

 

“You got me.”

 

“Why the sudden change in heart?”

 

“I really thought about what you said, Robin.  I thought a lot about your situation, and I’ll admit that I’m still stuck in the ways of my father…”

 

“Chrom-”

 

“Don’t worry, I know you never said it aloud to me.  You didn’t say it before, and you didn’t say it back then at Midmire.  You remember that, right? And…afterwards…”

 

“I try not to think about the time I almost lost my life, but, yes, I do remember what happened.”

 

“I thought about General Mustafa, I thought about the Plegian graves, I thought about the masses that revolted against Gangrel because of Emm...She gave them a chance. She knew the Plegian people weren’t evil.  She wanted peace as much as I do.  Our father never gave them a chance, he wanted the entire country wiped out.”

 

Chrom took a moment to collect his thoughts, obviously showing signs that speaking of such matters wore him down a bit.  Robin reached for his hand, to which he grasped hers as usual,

 

“I can say that I’m glad he didn’t…”

 

“You’re telling me,” he said with a chuckle, “but as I was saying, my father hated the Plegian people because of his own fears and vices.  I hated the Plegian people for what they did to our land.  I hated how they pillaged our border towns.  I hated that they took my sister away from me.  Even after the war, you knew that I still held a grudge, Robin.  But the more I realize that my wife is Plegian, my daughter son are half-Plegian, and I have friends who defected to fight by my side who are Plegian…the more I realize that my feelings are inappropriate and simply me holding on to the past…because I’m afraid.”

 

“I understand, Chrom.  You don’t have to tell me more if it’s too painful for you.”

 

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, Robin.  This…this is _your_ home, after all.  This is _your_ castle.”

 

“I disagree,” Robin began, “I’ve told you time and time again that Ylisse is my home.  I consider my soul Ylissean, even if my blood is Plegian.  I know nothing of this world, and, frankly, it’s almost too painful for me to even think of what my life was like within these borders.  I’ve made peace with the fact that I will never recover a single memory of my mother…but that’s ok.  It’s all ok.  I’d rather cherish my memories with you and the Shepherds.  I’d rather cherish the memories of living my life inside Ylisstol, raising our children, than to think of my sad past.  It’s nice to finally have a name with a face, yes, since it’s nice to know that I had at least one person who cared for me before you found me.  However, Morgana is long dead.  I’ll never see her…and maybe that’s a good thing.  Maybe this is how I can focus on my new life, and sow the seeds of happiness, right?”

 

“Gods, I love you.” Chrom whispered before pressing his lips to hers for just a moment, “And as I vowed before, I’ll do whatever I can to create new, happy memories with you.”

 

“It’s all I could ever ask of you, Chrom.”

 

A fingertip traced a line down his neck, and in that moment Chrom wished to abandon their sweets and simply embrace her more intimately.  Even his hands trailed from her shoulders down to her abdomen, palms gently hovering over the small bump between them—another happy memory for his beloved, to raise a second child with her and make their family an even four.  He thought to begin whispering sweet little nothings into her ear, but a voice caught their attention,

 

“So the rumors are true, eh?  The Exalt and Queen really are a pair of lovebirds. Cute.”

 

The third voice startled them, breaking them from their intimate moment and veering their attention to the woman at the entrance of the tearoom, large axe in hand and what seemed to be berserker armor with a bit of a more…’noble’ flair…

 

She placed the axe head-down onto the floor and leaned on it while smirking at the two of them,

 

“They said you were going to linger in here for a bit.  Though we’d take care of the paperwork now.”

 

“I beg pardon,” Chrom coughed, “and who might you be?  We were told that weapons weren’t necessary-”

 

“I just came back from the training yard.  My bad.  You would know well that a leader must be as fit as their men, right?”

 

“Leader?” Robin asked, “Wait, does that mean that you’re the regent?”

 

“Indeed.” The woman gave her servants a short nod, to which each brought in tea and snacks followed by a thinner-looking man with glasses and several rolls of parchment.  Behind all of them was the man from before, the one who introduced himself to Chrom and Robin as the head of the Plegian guard.  He was most likely the regent’s vassal.

 

“Forgive us,” Robin began, standing and offering her hand to the woman, “we weren’t exactly told of your time of arrival, nor of your name…”

 

“It’s fine, messengers and the like are still getting use to their jobs.  I apologize for that.  You’re aware that for the last two years we’ve been trying to rebuild our country, right?”

 

“I’ve been told, yes.”

 

“Yeah, that’s why things are a bit unorganized. Ah, right, where are my manners? Lady Robin, right?  I guess I should use formalities since I forgot that you’re seen as a savior by a lot of my people.”

 

“Did you say a ‘savior’?”

 

“Well, yes, to many you are.  To others, you’re the whole reason Plegia’s been in turmoil for so many years. I, however, know you more than just being both this country’s bringer of ruin and its infamous _savior_.”

 

“And what may that be?”

 

“My father’s murderer.” She said flatly, yet a smirk still played at her features, as if she were proud to tell Robin such a fact.

 

“I-”

 

“Wait.” Chrom interjected, “Explain yourself.  Robin has never killed an innocent in her life-”

 

“Oh, he wasn’t innocent.  Allow me to explain before you start biting at me, Exalt.”  She went ahead and took a seat on the couch across from them, crossing her legs in a relaxed manner before continuing, “I am the daughter of the late General Mustafa, a man you killed in the Midmire several years ago.  My name is Maali.”

 

“I’m sorry, did you just say that you’re General Mustafa’s _da_ ughter?” Robin gasped, “Gods…forgive us, Lady Maali-”

 

“Oh, hey, ‘Maali’ is just fine.” She said, holding her hand out to calm the queen, “But, yes, I am the daughter of General Mustafa.  My father fell to your hand years ago, leaving my mother, my older brother, and myself to fend for our lives.  While I might have hated the fact that I learned of my father’s death, it was what you did _afterwards_ that dictated whether or not I show you mercy.  For you see, had you turned yourself in to Gangrel, you wouldn’t have killed him…and we would have continued to starve under his rule.  My father was touched by Emmeryn’s words, and he wrote a letter to us before he took his march out to Midmire to cut your army off.  I remember mother reading it, terrified that her husband would have gone against the king’s wishes.  Regardless of what had happened, surely Gangrel would have put my father to death and killed the rest of us.”

 

“Your father was an honorable man, Maali,” Chrom added, “He fought hard until death…I-I’m sorry.  Don’t blame Robin, though, as I was the one to deal the final-”

 

“I don’t want to hear your apologies or receive pity,” Maali shot back, “I knew who my father was.  I knew how he died. It’s why I took up arms and my brother continued to study.  We wanted to make him proud, and we wanted our mother to die in peace in a warm bed instead of hiding away in a cave.  He was an inspiration to us all, and because I’m the only living child he has left, the Plegian people’s army chose me to guide them against the Grimleal when that time came.”

 

“So you became regent because of your leadership,” Robin said, “you fought your way to the throne and freed your people.  That’s most impressive, Maali.  I’m sure your father is proud.”

 

“I think of that every day.” She chuckled, “It’s what he would have wanted.  He was loyal to the Plegian people, not the darkness that infiltrated our ranks.  I want the same for my people.  I want to restore Plegia to its former glory, but, as you know, I can’t do a lot when word came out that the rightful heir was walking about.  And, you see, I didn’t want to have to kill you.”

 

“I…err, thank you for that.”

 

“It would feel wrong to take the life of the person who put that dragon down for good, you know?  While your father drove our economy into the ground and destroyed most of our land thanks to the blast from that old Dragon’s Table, you don’t seem to be the type who would do that considering your restoration work in Ylisse a few years back.  Also, you and I both know that uniting one kingdom under the name of Ylisse isn’t what’s best for _my_ people.”

 

“No, of course not,” Robin explained, “we see Plegia as a sovereign nation and, frankly, we share the same ideals, in that uniting our countries wouldn’t be in the best interest for the people.  Chrom and I are doing what we can to keep peace relations between us, Plegia, Regna Ferox, and the still-recovering state of Valm.”

 

“Well, this is going easier than I thought!” Maali let out a hearty laugh, similar to the royal guardsman, “So you have no problems shedding your Plegian crown and letting me take it, right?”

 

“None.” Robin said firmly, “I have nothing against Plegia, but these are not my people to govern.”

 

“Were the Ylisseans your people?” Maali asked, “You seem to be governing them without any issues.  What did your court say when you came out as being Plegian?”

 

Robin slowly closed her eyes, remembering that discussion months ago upon her first appearance in court since her sacrifice.  Indeed, they spent hours arguing amongst themselves, Chrom preaching of how Robin’s service meant more to the nation than any sort of blood.  Her amnesia was unfortunately outed, as she keep that a secret for as long as she could.  Tensions were _still_ high in the Ylissean court, but Chrom made it clear that Robin carried no ties to Plegia and that her interests were with, and only with, Ylisse.  Still, she carried the guilt of knowing that the exalted bloodline now, and forever, would have Plegian blood running through it….

 

“Those are our own matters,” Chrom said with a furrowed brow, putting one arm around his wife, “but that is not of Plegia’s concern.”

 

“You’re right, I was just curious.” Maali uncrossed her legs and appeared to study the couple before her, “….Ylisse is in good hands, no doubt.  Maybe you guys _do_ need a little Plegian in that system to get things straightened away.”

 

“Pardon-”

 

Maali simply cackled at Chrom’s reaction, leaning back and clapping her hands with delight, “I’m not kidding, but your reaction was worth it!  I don’t mean any disrespect, Ylisse has a lot of what we don’t—cattle, wheat, produce, and trade access to Regna Ferox for lumber.  The ice in the water up there is rough on our ships, so it’d be nice to have a way to get there by land.  In exchange,” she rolled out one of the pieces of parchment, “you know well Plegia has a lot to offer even when we’re rebuilding.  Gold, gems, silk, and, oh, yes, _sand_.”

 

For once, Chrom actually cracked a small smile, “Yes, I suppose you do have quite a lot of sand.”

 

“There’s that sense of humor!” Maali shot back with delight, “But we’ll talk about that later.  For now, you need to sign this, Lady Robin.”

 

Snapping out of her daze, Robin peered upon the parchment before her, now shifted so that she could read the entire decree.  It was a simple resignation of her station as the queen of Plegia—hereby acknowledging that the country would adhere to a new bloodline for the throne, ruled under the monarchy under Maali until the next shift in power if the queen does not live up to the standards set by the people.  It was similar to the Ylissean charter, though there were minor differences here and there.  What she was bound to was the agreement that she could not reinstate her power, nor could her next of kin or any generation after.  Therefore, the exalted bloodline was bound to the agreement that no one shall rule Plegia from their lineage under any circumstance, unless under a series of exceptions which included marriage.  While it wasn’t a fool-proof accord, it was enough to keep the two nations separate, but in good terms, without the fear of Robin, Lucina, Morgan, or any of their children attempting to claim a birthright that would no longer be theirs. 

 

There was no hesitation in her signing it, and as Maali rolled up the parchment she looked the Ylissean queen dead in the eyes and said,

 

“Fear not, my lady. I will rule this nation with only the best of intention.”

 

“…I have no doubt, Lady Maali.  Now, if you’ll excuse us, though, I think our time here is done for now.  However,” Robin finally broke a smile, “you’ll be hearing from us soon considering some trade deals, if you don’t have any qualms.”

 

“None. I think for once we can finally put those Plegian-Ylissean tensions in the past, right?”

 

“Right.” Chrom replied with a nod, “You’ve no idea how wonderful that sounds to the both of us, Lady Maali.  After years of conflict and strife, I’m glad to say with certainty that our continent can finally exist with peace all around.” Robin’s gaze fell upon Chrom for the moment, her eyes shimmering with delight. He smiled back at her before placing his palm on her own, “We made a promise long ago, that we’d build a peaceful world for generations to come…just the two of us. And we plan to uphold that.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Either my ward worked wonders, or things went well.” Tharja said while watching the two approach the readied carriage, “Let me know if this is the last time I get to see my family before I have to start sneaking around.”

 

“It went well,” Robin explain, “if anything, it should be easier for you to get in and out of the city now that we’re establishing a genuine peace accord.”

 

“Are we talking trade?” Tharja actually appeared slightly curious, “It’s a little difficult smuggling some of the items I need for hexes over the border, mind you.”

 

“Err, yeah, we’re talking about opening up trade more, too.” Chrom replied, though hesitant to say much to her, “Did you finish the rest of your errands? You sort of abandoned me earlier…”

 

“I felt that you were fine on your own,” Tharja replied with a smirk, “I thought you’d be a little more inept with dealing with local trade stalls.  I was waiting for someone to realize you were Ylissean and suddenly mark their prices up by fifty percent.” Her smirk turned into a frown, “You surprisingly did well. I honestly expected worse.”

 

“Well, I’m glad I missed your expectations?”

 

“For now.” With a soft huff, Tharja turned on her heel and entered the carriage first. Robin had a soft smile on her features, amused by their bit of banter,

 

“Are you ready to head back to Ylisse, love?”

 

“I am.” Robin gave him a nod, “It’s still not my home, Chrom.  My home is with you and Lucina, it always will be.”

“Was there anything you wanted to take care of beforehand?”

 

“I don’t think it’s necessary.  There’s no temple here with a god my mother would have believed in, I think.  All I can do is just hope that her soul rests well…and that I can make her proud.”

 

“I’m sure you are, Robin.”

 

“Considering I’m living a life where Validar has no control over me and I’m able to freely live and study as I so choose, yeah, I feel like I might be doing what she wanted for me.”  Robin looked back towards castle Plegia one last time, thinking for only a moment that in another time, it could have been her home.  The people walking the streets before them could have been her people.  However, in that world, she would have never met Chrom.  She would have never met the Shepherds.  Certainly, she would have succumb to the fate she was supposedly destined to have. 

 

Nay, with confidence, Robin put herself back into the Ylissean-made carriage and next to her Ylissean-born husband.  She would head back to the palace and be greeted by her daughter, who defied borders with her own lineage now split between two halidoms.  She would sit on the throne wearing the golden headdress of Chrom’s late sister, and she would rule over the people whom she protected years before…

 

That was all she ever wanted.


End file.
